Calgar took a deep breath.
As the cold air passed through his enhanced multi-lung system, he forced himself to detach from this scene that felt as unreal as a Warp-born hallucination. He had to admit that if the opponent's goal was to disrupt the thinking and judgment of the Ultramarines, they had succeeded brilliantly—perhaps even too much so.
The array before him—composed of a Living Saint, an Inquisitor, a Magos Dominus, suspected Legion-era Ultramarines from ten thousand years ago, and a full detachment of Adeptus Custodes—was more absurd than any Chaos sorcery or xenos deception he had ever encountered.
Consequently, Calgar decided to temporarily bypass the riddle-like request to "meet the true Master of Macragge" and strike at the core. His power armor's servo-motors emitted a low hum as he took a step forward, his gaze locking onto Adam like a torch.
"Who, exactly, are you?" Calgar asked solemnly.
"You can think of me as a noble from Terra," Adam said earnestly, meeting his gaze.
To be honest, he couldn't be bothered to think of other excuses. Currently, there truly wasn't a single logical identity within the Empire that could explain everything he possessed. It was better to use such a vague statement to gloss it over.
A noble from Terra?
Calgar's brow furrowed tightly. What kind of noble could command such an entourage? Even the most powerful members of the High Lords of Terra might have some elite guards, but it was absolutely impossible for them to command any of the units mentioned above! Absolutely impossible!
"Then, these... what is their relationship to you?" Calgar couldn't help but ask.
"It's fine, just listen to my sophis—cough, my explanation," Adam said with a straight face.
"Look, since I am from Terra, it is perfectly normal for me to have certain connections with the Custodes who guard the Imperial Palace. Then, my family follows the Ecclesiarchy, so it is quite reasonable for a Living Saint to favor me."
"As for the Magos Dominus, that is because I have trade dealings with the Mechanicus on Mars. Given all these relationships, it is only natural that an Inquisitor would be willing to act alongside me. It's all very logical, isn't it?"
"As for those Ultramarines from the Legion era, I picked them up on the way!"
What?
Calgar felt as though his sanity was being dragged across the ground and trampled repeatedly. Was this a joke? Could the words of High Gothic even be arranged in such a way? How could this person say these things with such a straight face? There were so many points to criticize here that he didn't even know where to start.
Calgar began to search for a rational explanation within his chaotic thoughts. Was this a Chaos conspiracy? No, could corruption truly disguise such an array, including Custodes and a Living Saint? If the Ruinous Powers already possessed such capability, why not launch a direct assault on the Imperial Palace instead of coming to Macragge to play riddles? It didn't make logical sense.
Or perhaps...
A thought flashed through his mind. He remembered the prophecy just delivered by Tigurius.
...Hope?
"Your explanation lacks credibility, Mr. Adam," Calgar finally said in a deep voice, recovering the composure expected of an Astartes Chapter Master. "I will need time to verify your identities and origins, especially..."
He looked again at the suspected members of the Ultramarines Legion from ten thousand years ago.
"Verify? Of course you can," Adam nodded, seemingly unsurprised by his reaction. "However, after verification, I hope to achieve the purpose of my visit."
His tone remained calm, yet it carried a trace of undeniable direction. "As I said before, the one I wish to see is the true Master of Macragge."
"The Master of Macragge is right here," Calgar said. "I, Marneus Calgar, as Chapter Master of the Ultramarines, rule over the Five Hundred Worlds of Ultramar. Whatever business you have, you may speak with me—"
"Not you."
Adam shook his head, interrupting him directly and revealing the answer. "The Master of Macragge I am referring to is the Primarch of the XIII Legion, the founder of the Five Hundred Worlds—Roboute Guilliman."
The air on the deck seemed to freeze instantly. Even the movements of the Honor Guard and the Terminator veterans appeared to stall for a moment. Calgar felt as if he could hear whispers from the Warp.
"You... what did you say?" His voice dropped low involuntarily.
"We have come on this journey to awaken Guilliman," Adam repeated, his voice crystal clear. "Ten thousand years ago, Roboute Guilliman anticipated the misfortune that might befall him and entrusted a Magos of the Mechanicus to complete some necessary preventative work. Now, the conditions are met, and the time has come. Therefore, we need to proceed to the Temple of Hera to return the Primarch to the Empire."
...Resurrecting our Genetic Father?
Calgar could hardly believe it. Massive hope and profound fear intertwined in his chest like ice and fire. Was this true? Was this a grand miracle finally sent down by the Emperor to save the Empire from ruin? Or was it a malicious plot carefully orchestrated by the Great Enemy to destroy the foundation of the Ultramarines and all of Ultramar?
When it concerned a Primarch, the Empire, and the fate of the entire Chapter and the Five Hundred Worlds, Calgar dared not be the slightest bit negligent.
"This matter... is of too great a consequence," Calgar forced himself to say in his steadiest voice, despite the storm raging inside him. "I cannot decide this alone. I need to consult with others—"
"...Consult?"
Adam tilted his head slightly, his tone carrying a faint hint of irony. "You mean, just as you handled major affairs in the past, you will summon representatives from every Ultramarines successor chapter spread across the galaxy to hold a long, drawn-out War Council? To discuss whether or not to save your Genetic Father, Roboute Guilliman?"
"Time is never on the side of those who wait and hesitate," he continued. "Do you really think the Great Enemy behind the veil will remain indifferent to a Primarch who might return to reality, waiting quietly for you to reach a consensus?"
Calgar fell silent. He knew the urgency of time, and he understood even better what the news of a possible Primarch's return would mean to the enemies in the Warp. Yet, to allow a completely unknown group to directly contact the sanctuary where the Primarch slept? That would be a severe desecration of his duty. He was caught between a rock and a hard place.
Finally, he looked up, his gaze beneath the helmet fixed on Adam.
"Then, what is your proposal?" Calgar asked deeply. He needed to hear what this "Terran Noble" had to offer.
Adam seemed to have anticipated the question, his expression remaining calm. "It's simple. We meet halfway."
"First, to prove we have no ill intent, I can have all the Custodes and these Astartes from the past remain here to undergo your strictest inspections and questioning."
"And then?" Calgar pressed, without immediately stating his position.
"Next, we will form a minimal observation team to head to the Temple of Hera under your close supervision—merely to observe Lord Guilliman's specific condition, without performing any unauthorized operations."
"We will choose five people, without any additional armament, to conduct the visit under the watch of your fully armed Honor Guard, Terminators, and even Dreadnoughts."
Calgar's brain operated at superhuman speeds, analyzing every detail of this plan. Risks still existed. But compared to a direct refusal or granting total access, this was undoubtedly the most feasible and controllable choice at hand.
Just as Calgar was weighing the options, a faint but clear psychic pulse touched his consciousness. It was Chief Librarian Tigurius. He expressed his approval of this plan.
"..."
This became the final straw that broke his hesitation.
"Very well," Calgar spoke, his voice regaining its iron-like firmness as he made his decision.